


Monster Back and Forth, Broken To and Fro

by Control_Room



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrated, Illustrations, Kisses, Love, Nonbinary Character, Optic Ink Universe (Bendy and the Ink Machine), Pictures, Trans Character, bertrum centric, demigod bertrum, my drawings, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 06:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16634540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room
Summary: Bertrum was… complicated. He never was human to begin with, and now…monster.(set in the optic ink au [my horrible interpretation of it at least], inspired by Mechanical Heart by @queenofcats17/phantomthief_fee)





	Monster Back and Forth, Broken To and Fro

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mechanical Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14880002) by [phantomthief_fee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomthief_fee/pseuds/phantomthief_fee). 



> the tumblr version has pictures
> 
> (heres the link: http://insane-control-room.tumblr.com/post/180151947316/broken-back-and-forth-monster-to-and-fro
> 
> UPDATE AO3 HAS BECOME THE ULTIMATE SITE

Back and forth.

Bertrum paced the small room, his arms folded, the others going back and forth. He had more than two arms, and he hated the six extras. All they did was destroyed, crushed, and wrought ruin as they snapped back and forth.

He hurt everyone around him and pushed them away, and then he’d let people in and they’d die, and it was back and forth.

It  _always_ hurt. Not just his physical, heavily modified body, but an additional emotional longing. Just to be liked, or cared about, yet at the same time a desire to be left alone. A back and forth. Bertrum never was the person to have many friends, and most he had, he had also seen them fade away and vanish, die and be killed. Back and forth, people came in and out of his own long life. He lived and could live much longer than any human could, and his outlandish lifespan was extended by Drew’s… little  **project**.

A ride?! And his least favorite at that, the one he slaved over the most for balance and imbuing it with all his power, the one he absolutely wished was a simple project despite his love to challenge himself, the one he argued over the name with for ages, him wishing to call it the Spider and Joey deciding on the Whirling Willow (Wilbur had been unimpressed). It went back and forth. He could not always feel the inked appendages behind him, but he always heard the mechanical screeches and saw them flinch before him every so often. Back and forth. When he could feel them they hurt and ached, and burned to move.

He was alone for a long time.

And then Lacie came back to him. She was changed as well, looking like a circus actress but made of metal. An animatronic.

He cursed himself for even thinking up such a machine.

But she did not mind, she never cared. She was with him in the then and in the now, and now their lives could or would be the same length until they would rust.

He was uncertain how he felt about it.

Forth…

On one hand, he was overjoyed. He loved hir with all his heart (or mechanism), and was glad and thankful to spend any time with hir at all. She was his rock, his lifeline. And he loved hir.

And back…

On the other hand, he was distraught and self persecuting. He always wanted to live alongside hir, and near their deathless demises, they had lived together, in the same house, but were just carefully edging around each other, still friends, both torn between having each other as more or remaining at the balance they had found. Was his wish that she could live for the same amount of time as him the cause for their robotic shift? Was it his fault she no longer was human?

A whirl snapped him out of it, his extra limbs creaking and jerking. Back and forth, faster and faster. Pain shot through his back with their motions, collapsing him to his knees on the floor. He gasped, ink spilling out of his eyes in agony as his ‘arms’ lashed out, writhing and wreaking anything in the room.

Back…

_Not again!_

He always broke everything.

He was broken. A fallen god. A torn goddess. Bertrum and Hedon–

And forth…

Bertrum. Bertrum Piedmont. Alive.

He shook as he waited to ride out the anguish, falling forward into a bow as mechanical limbs shattered glass, tore up floorboards, and destroyed cloth.

Back…

_Monster._

That’s all he was. A monster. Back and forth. Doomed to desecrate and desolate.

He gripped the ground as his tears formed a puddle beneath him, seeping into the wood, and spilling back from his eyes, renewing the inky splotches. Back and forth.

And back…

 _Twisted_.

He once knew for certain that he was not Hedone, and never should have been her, but now he could not tell if this was the other gods’ punishment for not being who he was.

He grit his teeth, hating himself for even allowing a sliver of doubt to slip past him just for one small pain.

Forth…

No. He. Yes. Male. He, him, his. Back and forth. That is who he is. Not she. No. Hedone was a mistake. He was Bertrum.

And forth…

Lacie helped him keep that a part of himself. She kept him going and repaired him, and sometimes he could return the favor for hir.

An arm shattered a lightbulb, shocking pain lacing up into his body, back and forth, in and out, making him scream. He covered his mouth, shaking and crying. Footsteps came close, in and out of his ringing hearing, obscured by his screeching limbs, and all he could do was curl in on himself and wait to be found, and he was terrified that whoever might find him would get hurt. He would tear them apart without wanting to, in and out. So he was immensely relieved when the extraneous limbs tired. The footsteps hurried toward him, and he felt panic rising. He was a monster, he could kill them.

“Hey, uh, Bert?”

No no no Wally go  _away_ , you’re going to get hurt….

“Mr. Piedmont?”

Thomas, run, you foolish mechanic,  _please_ save yourself….

“Are you alright? Can I get a yes or no?”

Why are you like this, Sammy?  _Go_ , be happy with the loves of your life, and write amazing and sweet songs, don’t get torn to shreds….

“GO  _AWAY_!” he shrieked, finally jolting up and scrambling back, the mechanical appendages screeching alongside his voice, in and out. “STAY AWAY FROM ME! I’M A MONSTER, RUN! BE SAFE,  _GO **AWAY**_!”

The three boyfriends flinched back, Thomas and Sammy gripping Wally’s hands with their gloved ones (to avoid getting inked).

“Let’s get Lacie,” Thomas quietly suggested. NO, do NOT bring  _hir_! “She usually can calm him down, right? I… I’m honestly worried about him….”

“Don’t worry about me, just go and leave!” Bertrum shouted, his false arms snapping to the wall and cracking holes in the wood, in and out. “Go away, I’m going to hurt you!”

“We’re goin’ an’ gettin’ Lacie,” Wally replied, pressing a kiss to the top of Thomas’s head (using his new height to his advantage). Bertrum yelled incoherent protests, drowned out by his limbs’ screaming. “C’mon Sammy. Or do you wanna stay an’ try ta keep him… in this room.”

“Nope,” the musician squeaked in a plain answer, gripping Wally’s arm with all his might. Which was a lot. “Let’s go find hir. Like, right now. Bertrum is… Bertrum is scaring me.”

“I SHOULD BE!” he roared, his arms crashing into the walls and leaving more gashes, twitching back and forth. “I’M DANGEROUS, STAY  **AWAY**!”

“We’re getting help for you, Bertrum,” Thomas told him. The man-turned-park-ride inhaled sharply with a strangled and choked noise, appendages retracting to attack the ceiling and writhe around their owner. “Please just stay here. We’ll be back, we promise.”

“NO!” he shouted at them, his rear arms poised to strike, in and out. “Do  **not** come back!  _Never_ come back!  _That’s_ how you can help!”

“Well,” Sammy looked at his boyfriends. “We’ll be bold enough and let you know we disagree. You need some real help.”

“ ** _Monsters. Don’t. Need. help._** ” he growled, mechanical ligaments snapping to and fro. “I’m a monster. You need to take care of yourselves and each other, but not a  **monster**!”

“Ya ain’t a monster, Mr. Piedmont,” Wally solemnly retorted. “You just are in a lotta pain. We all are. We’re gettin’ ya Lacie now.”

As they left, the door became covered in ink.

“It’s for your own good, Mr. Piedmont,” Thomas’ voice was muffled.   
“You’re not locked in there, but we need you to stay safe.”

He tore into the floor and walls, ink stinging his metallic bones. They boxed him in. He screamed, ripping apart everything he could.

He eventually curled up next to the door, like a caged animal wishing to escape but without the strength or means. A while later, he paced the room again, back and forth, the door no longer covered in ink. He should run, in and out, he knew he shouldn’t put anyone in danger, but a part of him anchored him there.

The door opened, Lacie rushing in. Bertrum yelped and his robotic limbs jerked toward hir menacingly, but he rushed back before they could reach hir and tear hir apart screw by screw.

“S-stay away!” he ordered, but his voice wavered and broke, back and forth. Lacie approached him a little more, glancing at the three men in the doorway. She shooed them to go. “I’m warning you!”

“Bertrum.” She walked slowly and steadily. “Are you alright?”

“NO! Stay back! I’m a monster!”

“No you’re not, Bertie.”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”

“What should I call you, then?” she challenged. “Monster?”

“That’s what I am.”

“Prove it,” she demanded, smirking. The smile faded as Bertrum’s secondary arms acted as legs, lifting him above the ground to loom over hir, back and forth. She forced a laugh. “Ha! See? You’re not a mon-STER!”

Bertrum had grabbed hir by the straps of her overalls, hauling hir in the air. She stared at him with wide eyes, and he looked down at hir with a blank and empty expression.

“Say that again, I dare you.”

“You’re not a monster,” she replied. He ripped through the floor, stalking to a wall and shoved hir against it, holding hir in place. “You’re still not a monster, Bertrum.”

Roaring, he tore through wood and metal and destroyed whatever he hadn’t already in the room. He was breathing harshly, still pinning hir to the wall.

“I don’t see a monster, Bertrum. I see the same you you were, lost and lonely and hurting. You don’t have to be lonely anymore.”

His hands shook, so he gripped the denim and aluminum tighter.

He used his mechanical arms to sit hir against the wall, removing his personal hands. Back and forth. Lacie looked back at him. He pushed some of hir curls from hir face.

“Try telling me I’m not a monster now.”

His lips pressed against hirs, soft and rough all at once. His air was hot on hir cheek, his moustache tickling hir slightly. One of his hands held hir wrist, tight, the other resting on hir side, his thumb going back and forth gently. Behind him, his highest of the extra arms shaped a heart. She stared at him. Bertrum Piedmont, the man of no feelings (a blatant lie everyone pretended was gospel), was kissing hir, and she wasn’t responding?! Blasphemy!

Just as he was about to pull away from Lacie, she wrapped hir free arm around his neck, pulling him back to hir lips, slightly opened. Back and forth. He felt black tears running down his face, staining his cheeks, the ink dark and cruel, but she still, despite his monstrous body and tortured being, she kissed him.

They pulled back after Lacie needed air. Bertrum’s inverted eyes studied hir, worried for hir mental health and spilling self loathing. She cupped his cheek, wiping away black tears with hir thumb.

“Ya not any monster,” she told him, and he gawked at hir, shocked. Then he growled and slammed their lips back together again, biting and nipping, all teeth, but still soft and gentle, not wanting to hurt hir in the slightest, giving hir ample room to back out. Hir heart ached as he hesitated before pressing back into the sweetest of kisses. Did he think that letting his pent up emotions out made him a monster? She ran hir hand, released from Bertrum’s grip, through his hair, calming him. In and out. He rested his chin on hir shoulder. She ran hir hand over his back in little soothing circles and through his ink like hair, ruffling it and pushing it back. Back and forth. “Showing that you care doesn’t make you a monster, Bertrum. Showing how you feel makes you… well, a person. We all have needs and desires, and when they’re not met, we get upset. It’s okay.”

His knees buckled, his hand gripping hir sleeve as he sank, sagging against hir, his head slipping down to press his forehead against hir shoulder in sobs. She pressed a kiss to the side of his head, trying not to cry hirself. His shaking slowed, turning to little tremors.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his tears spilling down his face. She hugged him tighter. “I’m sorry I’m a mons–”

“Nope,” Lacie cut him off. “You’re not a monster.”

He wrapped an arm around hir, pulling himself up to hug hir.

“Please… please help me,” Bertrum whimpered. She nodded, hugging him back tightly. “I-I love you, Lacie.”

“Aw, Bertrum…” she rocked with him, back and forth. “I’ve known for a long time, my Bertie….”

“Y-you’re not mad?” he wondered, incredulous, pulling back to look at hir, his gold eyes drowned in black searching hir desperately. “D-do you… l-love me too?”

“Yes, Bertrum,” she murmured, kissing his brow. Bertrum stared at hir before crumbling into tears of pure emotion. She rocked him, back and forth, holding him close. “Bertrum, I love you.”

She lifted him in hir mechanical arms, holding him aloft bridally, him resting his head against hir bicep, hir immense strength and power grown exponentially in her animatronic form. Lacie carried him down the halls with a brisque nod to the trio that retrieved hir, swaying back and forth with Bertrum, setting him down carefully on the bed they would swap every other night (or when they’d assume it was night), in and out. Bertrum immediately curled up, making himself into a ball, using his extra limbs to pull the blanket over himself. He always slept like that for as long as he could remember. Lacie thought it was adorable. She chuckled softly, laying down beside him, pulling him close, tucking his head under hir chin, pulling hir knees up to cradle Bertrum.

Lacie let hirself shut down when Bertrum’s rushed breathing and quieted sobs faded. They let each other comfort themselves.

Bertrum woke groggily on his back instead of side, still tired enough to sleep, but a pressure was on his chest, warm and rising and falling. Lacie’s head was pressed to his neck, hir warm processed air gently tickling his collar. He wrapped his arms around hir, his true arms, kissing the top of hir head. As for the rest of hir body, she was splayed over him, limbs on either side of him. He slowly raised them both on his back arms, the blanket still on top, and began rocking them both back and forth, like a child’s basket might.

Just to and fro. Back and forth. Breathing in and out.

He fell back asleep to the genteel motion and Lacie’s breath.

Maybe his extraneous arms could be used for something after all.

Back and forth.


End file.
